#Americans #LanguagePoetry #Women #FreeVerse
If sadness is akin to patience, we’re back! Pattern recognition was our first response
A merchant is probing for us with his chintz curtain effect. *
Card in pew pocket announces, “I am here.” I made only one statement because of a bad winter.
“must represent the governess for, of course, the creature itsel… could not inspire such terror.” staring at me fixedly, no trace of recognition.
Discomfort marks the boundary. One early symptom was the boundary… The invention of hunger. I could use energy. To serve.
The doll told me to exist. It said, “Hypnotize yourself.” It said time would be transfixed.
So these are the hills of home. H… nearly subliminal. To see them is… double, hear bad puns delivered wi… An untoward familiarity. Rising from my sleep, the road is…
Complex systems can arise from simple rules. It’s not that we want to survive, it’s that we’ve been drugged
Sad, fat boy in pirate hat. Long, old, dented, copper—colored Ford. How many traits must a thing have
A girl is running. Don’t tell me “She’s running for her bus.” All that aside!
The very flatness of portraits makes for nostalgia in the connoisseur. Here’s the latest
The idea that they were reenacting something which had been staged in the first place bothered her. If she wanted to go on, she’d need to ignore this limp chronology. She assumed he was...
What if I were turned on by seemi… or “extrapolate?” What if I maneuvered conversation… words? Perhaps the excitement would come…
You may “have” sex— but those round sink—holes beneath the off—ramps, scabbed with whatever
You’re it. It is (you are) an error with an arsenal of disguises,